Budapest
by Ich-Bin-Eine-Dame
Summary: Hungary feels like she's dying. Until she gets visit from a familiar face. Might be continued, as of yet complete. Set in 1945. Contains PruHun, and mild UsUk.


Hungary felt the coldness of the wind by the river crash into her face, as she lit a cigarette, the only kind that was around now, and try and shield the fire from the sturdy, metal lighter, that was now starting to slowly corrode and rust. It was breaking, just like she was. Her gloved hands drew the cigarette to her mouth, and she inhaled it. She expected it to calm her, but it didn't. It didn't work anymore. She was done with, basically screwed since Germany and his boss arrived, since Russia wanted her, since they all wanted her and since she didn't know herself what she wanted. She didn't know anymore, and it tore her apart. Her eyes started stinging, and her breath grew unsteady. Her eyes, the eyes that were always shining, were not shining anymore. And her hair, the long, flowing lock of brown, was cut short and tucked under a shabby hat. Her coat was worn and her boots were army standard. She looked awful, to put it short, and she felt worse. Pain hit her every time a citizen died, every time dispute started again, every time the horrors of war occurred. So basically, she felt sick every day. Always. She's seen a lot, and been through a lot.

Now, the last thing she expected to see was Gilbert, he wasn't really Prussia anymore, standing there in the fog, in the dampness of the Danube. It seemed to be permanently stained with dirt and red, her artery, stained and ruined. The artery of Europe.

He expected her to gasp, to run into his arms, to ask how he's been. But that was before. Now, he only really wanted her to breathe, to tell him that she's fine although he knows she's not. No one is.

They stared, silence between them.

"I'm certainly glad to see you again.", her eyes flickered upwards to make eye contact.

"Me too.", he replied, his voice huskier than she remembered. He looked bad, worse than she expected. Worse than she was, perhaps, with what was going on with Germany. His pale hair was paler, and his eyes were still in the vibrant shade of dark red, going into blue and purple. He was wearing a German uniform. No, not a German. A Nazi uniform. Hungary knew Germany, the real Ludwig, the real man he was. This was not Germany anymore. At least, not the Germany she knew. The Germany they all knew.

"You look alright." She said, attempting conversation. She barely talked to anyone nowadays; there was no one she could trust.

"I'm not. Have you got a cigarette? Lil' Luddy stole my last one." He let out a breathy laugh, as if to appear happy.

"How is he?" She didn't smile, which would have seemed cold, but given the circumstances, it seemed normal.

"Not himself." He sighed.

"You cut your hair." He continued after a lapse of silence. They were facing the river now, looking out onto the broken bridge and the dusty city. It was as if Budapest were sleeping, as if she only had to wake up and it would be normal again. She hasn't been normal for a long time.

"Yeah, I did. I- I just thought it would be convenient."

"I can imagine."

Another lapse of silence.

"You know, I always thought that we would have so much to say when I would see you again." He turned to look at her, and smiled a little.

The last time they saw each other was in the siege of Budapest. December 1944. Around 4 months ago. Russia had stormed into her apartment, talking to her, threatening her. She pulled out her gun, he pulled out his gun, smiling. In that moment, Prussia and some officer stormed in. Russia did the obvious. He turned around, in one swift motion, and shot them both down, in one swift motion. She did the obvious too; surrendered. What else could she do? Chaos broke out soon after, violence greater than ever happened in her capital. Her still sleeping capital.

"I'm torn, Gil, I really am. I feel horrible, worse than ever. I wish I were dead." She finished in a whisper.

"Wrong. It's terribly boring." He replied, still serious.

And against all odds, they laughed.

"What is going to happen now? With you? And with me? Tell me, what will Ludwig do?" She asked, with a hurried tone.

"I don't know. I really don't know. I don't know him, and I don't know what he will do."

"No one does."

Silence again.

"Look, do you want to go to my apartment? I could make you some tea, I guess." She said quickly, as though she was embarrassed. They shouldn't be embarrassed, they really shouldn't.

"Is it real tea?"

"It tastes like shit."

"Just like home, then." He grinned, and allowed her to link her arm in his.

"Make yourself at home, I guess." She said, and motioned to the small dining table placed in the dirty kitchen, with two chairs placed next to it. She pulled off her coat, revealing a equally shabby outfit underneath. The apartment was in ruins. Her old one was blown up, so she moved here, which had a scrawny bathroom and a kitchen. She slept on a couch, and the only form of entertainment was a wireless, all her books were gone. The kitchen was bare and empty, not full of ingredients for her beloved food. Hungary opened the kitchen cupboard to find a kettle, but quickly remembered she didn't have one anymore, so decided to get a pot instead and hope that the stove was working. Obviously, it wasn't so she swore and spun around, leaning against the kitchen stove and crossing her arms.

"I don't have hot water." She mumbled. It was embarrassing, Prussia knew that all too well. Just a couple of years ago she boasted to him about her married life, and now, she didn't even have warm water.

"I've been on military food in shitholes across Europe. This is better than that." He joked and grinned, but it seemed empty. He'd been through hell, the things Germany was doing now, that wasn't humane. They knew it, Germany knew it, but still. It was as if he was possessed. He moved from the doorway to sit down, Hungary followed him.

"So." she murmured.

"We're not dead." he replied, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Yet. I feel.. I feel as though... I can't describe it." her voice sounded fragile and small, as though it were about to break.

"I know. Everyone feels like that." he replied, sounding earnest and soft, and so damn comforting it hurt her. She wanted to get up and run towards him and kiss him and hold him, after all this time when she didn't know where he was and what he was, even who he was anymore. Instead, she vouched for holding his hand in hers above the table, and staring at him. He looked so vulnerable, a certain youth across his face, they leaned in a little, never breaking their eye contact, and-

There was a knock at the door.

She sprang up,, cautiously grabbing her gun from the kitchen. Skilled fingers loaded it, and she opened it. Peering outside, she saw the person she least expected to see in this part of the world.

It was England. And, fuck it all, America. She stayed calm, motioning Prussia to move away, back into the bathroom. The door widened, and she lowered her gun.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, in a completely neutral tone, just as she did when she last had visitors.

"Let us in, you never know who followed us." England, replied, calm and collected as usual. America on the other hand, looked a mix of excitement and being terrified. He stood directly behind him, hands deep inside the pockets of his dirty bomber jacket.

She motioned them to walk in, and England and she sat down on the chair, while America seemed to want them to sit. She knew why, they both looked like shit, while America wasn't that badly affected by all this European nonsense.

"Hungary, we have reason to believe that something sinister than this whole bloody war will happen soon. You see, both of us were in London yesterday, business as usual, and we woke up in a basement room beneath your parliament." England said, with little emotion. His eyes were vibrant, and she caught something that was not pity, but seemed to say 'It's alright, I know.' America was unusually silent.

"Yes. That would be expected. I believe that some form of espionage is going on a lot on this continent, as you know. That was probably the reason." she replied, equally calm. America glanced to each of them eyes flickering to them, biting his thumb.

"Look, you're freaking me out. Both of you. Someone tell me what the hell is going on." he spit out suddenly, causing both of them to jump just a little.

"America, it's nothing. We were due in Budapest anyway. We have to sort something out with Russia." England said, which seemed to calm him down a bit. Hungary understood it fully.

They were planning something that would involve Russia, which meant, God forbid-

An invasion. Perhaps even, the last.

"It's been very cold lately. I believe winter's only begun." she said, speaking directly to England.

"Oh no, it will be over soon. At least, in England."

"Seasons are so peculiar."

"Yes. In other parts of the globe, it's still summer."

"Ah."

They remained silent. What needed to be told has been told.

"Come on, America, we've bothered her long enough." he said, but not in a tone that would have been as though he was talking to a child.

"Yeah, okay. Good, good luck. We'll see you soon, I guess." America said, smiling sheepishly, which she found a little touching. The poor boy was still so young, and naive. He had no idea what she, what all of them, were going through.

"Yes. Goodbye."

Only when they left had she realised what Prussia had witnessed in the bathroom.

She sprinted towards it, slamming open the door, and was surprised that he was still there.

"Well, I'm glad that something has remained normal in these times." he said, and smiled.

"What?" she questioned.

"England and America. They're in love. It's obvious."

"Yes it is. It was even during the last war." she mumbled and walked out, Prussia followed her.

"Love, love is peculiar." he said.

"It is."

They stared at each other, but it was comforting, not awkward.

"I, I'm going to stay here for a couple of weeks. You see, Luddy's being a little bossy."

She knew what that meant. He wouldn't say anything to him about the last invasion that England and America and the others were planning to do soon. Involving Russia. It would need to be the final one.

"Good. A break might do you good."

"It would do us both some good."

He wouldn't tell him. He wanted this over.

And Hungary did something very much unlike her. He pulled her in a kiss, and felt the tears fall down her face.

Finally. A moment of hope. In her sleeping city of Budapest.


End file.
